Sunday, February 26, 2006

Out of Body Experience experiences, anyone?

Do you believe in out of body experiences? I've talked to two people who say they have had them. One of those people was a sort of wacky relative of mine, and my instincts tell me I shouldn't believe her, because she seems like the type of person who is just goofy enough to have misinterpreted a dream as an out of body experience. However, perhaps she's just wacky enough that she would have the crazy kind of brain to allow something as insane-sounding as that to happen. Of course, she could have hallucinated the whole thing, and just thought it was real. Acid hallucinations can be very intense, and I'm sure crazy hallucinations are very real seeming as well. I don't know if she's ever tried acid, as a matter of fact, I highly doubt it. But, they can be intense. I speak from experience. From reading about it in books.

The other person who told me she had an out of body experience was a totally normal person. It shocked me when she told me that. It was like, "I thought I knew you, then you go and tell me something like this, and now I'm not sure you're as normal as I thought you were." I've known her for about two years, and the whole time I've known her, she has never done or said anything to make me think she's nutty, or koo koo, or even ditzy. She seems very smart and of sound body and mind. But the way she described it, it almost sounded like she herself wasn't unsure that she might have been dreaming.

I'd think if anyone would be having an out of body experience, it'd be me, on account of all the hallucinogenic drugs I've sampled, and not to mention, I'm an artist, kind of a strange personality and all, and I'd think that I would have at least hallucinated some kind of bizarre thing like that by now. But I haven't even had one lousy flash back, much less any out of body experiences. I've had a few panic attacks, but that's about as crazy as it gets around here. I'd think I'd be a prime candidate for some kooky unexplained phenomenons - I'm up for that kind of shenanigan. I'm up for seeing a ghost, I'm up for floating around town, causing trouble while my body sleeps. I'd write a song about it or something.

Mmmm, on second thought, I don't know if I'd want to see a ghost. I'd probably take a pooper right in my pants. I'm even scared by those really cheesy phony baloney horror movies, like, the ones where the bad guy wears a hockey mask (spooky!) and runs around chopping people's faces off with his long fingernails. I'm sure if some ghost came to visit me, it'd be the scary kind, with one eye ball dangling down and half his ear hanging off, a bloody scalp with half his brain sticking out, like Paxcal in Pet Sematary, one of the scariest movies ever! (It's misspelled on purpose, because in the movie, the sign was supposed to have been written by a child.)

I guess it doesn't have to happen in real life for me to write a song about it. I'd call the song, "Hey Ghosts, Please don't visit me."

Hey ghosts - I don't want no visitors
I don't need no supernatural inquisitors
Grandpa, I miss ya
But I wouldn't want to kiss ya...

Has anyone out there who is not completely insane had an out of body experience? I'd like to hear accounts from Wall Street types and Harvard Grads, perhaps a Brain surgeon or a police officer...not to say that these people can't be insane, they're often even more unusual than they would like to have the rest of the world believe, it's just that it's always artists and mind readers having supernatural experiences.

Well? Anyone normal out there experience anything abnormal?

Thursday, February 23, 2006

I'm watching figure skating...

...and the commentators are such dink anuses.

The commentators are such fair-weather friends - when the skaters are doing well, they are all up in their crotches. When they aren't doing well, they start getting all psychoanalytical on their asses, totally cutting them down, but doing it in an eloquent-sounding way that is OK, because it's on TV. If there were people at an ice skating practice just shanking a bunch of teenage girls ice skating, they'd get their asses kicked. TV makes everything okay.

It's amazing to me that these gals can even do this shit with their body, let alone do it on ice. They do things with their bodies that I can't even do with my imagination.

The skaters are doing amazing, awe-inspiring movements that human bodies were probably never even meant to be able to do. The one Japanese chick, Shizuki, just completely rocked it, without even making one mistake. They called it a "clean presentation". Shouldn't everyone in the theater line up to place their lips upon her anus? She can jump four feet into the air with ice skates on, going about 35 miles per hour, and then land on fucking ICE! What ELSE can she do? She can probably also fly and eat fire. And the announcers say things like, "It was a good quality performance, it is beatable".

They remind me of my parents. "I know you can do better," they'd sometimes say. Oh, yeah? How the hell do you know, MOM?

Maybe the ice skater's routine being absolutely perfect is as good as it's going to get! Deal with it!

I can't help but notice the similarities in ice skating and go go dancing. There's lots of gawking, I, like everyone, I'm sure, can't help but stare at these half-naked hot chicks like they are freaks. Even as I try to write, my eyes keep going back to the TV. And they keep doing these moves where the girls totally super spread their legs, holding one leg up very high, exposing their young crotch mounds to the entire free world. No dollars in G strings, that is one very clear difference.

"She has a sort of concerned look on her face," he says of a 16 year old asian ice magician who has just gotten marks for her routine which put her in third place. If he had a sense of humor, he might add, "Probably because she knows if she doesn't take a medal home, she will be forced to commit suicide." But it never comes. Instead, we just hear the sounds of him eating donuts into the microphone.

Amazing women! I mean, teens!

Now this russian chick is dancing to spanish music - insert race-related joke here. This russian chick is kicking ass! The audience is cheering her like she is the queen of England, and the announcer says, "It's a little off." She's absolutely spectacular. I would make a horrible commentator, because the whole time, I'd just be saying, WOW! FUCKING WOW! WOW! HOLY SHIT! WOW! Did you SEE THAT??? JESUS H! MOTHER FUCKER!

DAMN! She just landed right on her ass. She was doing so good. She was the only one who even had half a chance of beating the bad ass Japanese chick with the perfect, or as the commentators say, "quality, clean" performance. It must suck to lose something so precious by doing something as clumsy as falling on your ass.

The perfect asian chick's nick name is "cool fire" or something. She has complete poker face. She won the first gold medal for Japan ever in Olympic figure skating.

They will be the next USA.

It's sad to see a pretty little face get bent up at "only winning a bronze".

What a tough gig! And I thought stand-up comedy was a shit fest.

TV is run by aliens.

Thursday, February 16, 2006

CXB IN JAIL AGAIN, this time maybe for a long while...

Hello Friends

If you could, please list any or all of this anywhere possible, and please participate:

Political activist and notorious gadfly/performance jokester Christopher X. Brodeur (aka Touching You, known for his involvement in The Liquid Tapedeck and Mr. Brooke Shields of Haunted Pussy) has been found guilty on 21 counts of various levels of harrassment. All of the specifics of the case are not available, but these details are:

** His charges of harrassment and aggrivated harrassment (regarding annoying and sometimes seemingly aggressive calls he made) is a misdemeanor charge. Though Christopher has no prior record of violent crime and has obeyed every restraining order ever placed against him, he was remanded immediately, which means he was taken to jail on the spot once he received a guilty verdict. Many people in his position would be let go until the next court date to get sentenced. Even though his sentencing date was set for March 8th, he was refused bail (though there was already bail on this case) and taken immediately to jail to be subject to now a THIRD psychological evaluation. This is not a 730 remand psychiatric evaluation, this is a judge-ordered psychiatric evaluation to determine how to "best sentence Christopher".

Each of the 21 counts holds a maximum sentence of 1 year, so essentially, he is looking at 21 years in jail. He *probably* won't get that many years, but he technically could. It's likely he will get sentenced a few years, though, with probation to follow. A FEW YEARS in JAIL!!?? For SPEAKING???????????? That seems unreasonably harsh.

WE ARE ASKING ANYONE who has been touched or affected by Christopher's thousands of various art, musical and political projects over his 15 years in NYC to please consider doing one or more of the following things, #s 1 and 2 being the MOST important, 1 being the MOST important of all.

1. Please write Judge Neil Ross a postcard or letter explaining that you know Christopher to be a harmless and beneficial artist, musician and politician if you find this to be true. If you have a project involving Christopher coming up, such as a show where he was scheduled to perform or work, please mention it. If you voted for him when he ran for mayor, please mention that. If you respect him or his work in any capacity, please mention that. Please mention that you do not know Christopher to be a violent person if that is your experience, and anything relating to that. Note that Christopher has been a Lower East Side resident and artist creating positive and imaginative art for the past 15 years, if you know this to be true. Please ask that Christopher be given probation or community service instead of having to do jail time. Mention that many violent criminals don't have to do jail time. Mention that you don't want YOUR tax dollars being spent imprisoning artists. Please do not insult the judge or the courts, even though it might be tempting. If you will write a letter or postcard, please do it ASAP and send it to:

Judge Neil Ross
c/o 100 Center St.
NY, NY 10007

On any piece of mail sent to the judge, please write on it somewhere FREE CXB or FREE CHRISTOPHER X. BRODEUR or something to that effect. Please ask three friends to do the same. List this on your blog and forward it to anyone you know who cares about free speech. This will only take a moment and only costs one stamp. Please do this if you can.

2. PLEASE come to Christopher's court date on March 8th. It is important that the judge and court see that Christopher is a member of a community of artists and activists and that he is appreciated and loved. Yes, you might have to get up early, and be in criminal court at 100 Center St. at 9:45 am. If you can't get there that early, just come a little later.

3. If you know a lawyer, a powerful person with activism or free speech interests, a group of people who somehow want to get involved in this cause or are a friend of Christopher's, please forward this message, put it on your website, print it out, copy it and leave it on bus seats. Please help keep freedom alive. This may seem small and insignificant, but it is part of a much larger liberty that we all MUST hold dear and protect, or we will LOSE it. If you know Christopher, you know him to SPEAK his mind. This is a right we have, but we are losing that right more and more every day. Remember, he is in JAIL (currently he is in the TOMBS, to be transported to RIKER'S ISLAND(!!!) possibly for MANY YEARS, because of WORDS HE SAID.

4. Visit if you are not familiar with Christopher X. Brodeur.

Please forgive me if this seems a bit disjointed, I watched freedom's throat get slashed today and bleed all over the floor in open court. Please send any email correspondence to

THANK YOU dearly.

Saturday, February 11, 2006

Where That Joke Came From
by Jessica Delfino

The best jokes have a little bit of truth and back story to them. Here is the story of the joke I tell about a guy in college who would never have sex with me - a joke which I still tell to this day. In the joke, I am the hero, winning the argument with a quippy line. In real life, it was rather traumatizing.

I met Justin (name has been left the same in hopes that the maximum amount of humiliation possible is had on his part) while studying animation at the Art School I went to in Philadelphia. He was a cute guy - kind of hip hoppy-ish, not the kind of guy I'd probably "typically" date. He drew graffiti-style art and cartoons and wore very baggy pants. He was a skinny white guy with short, dark hair and cute, puppy boy eyes. He tawked with a kind of New Yoowk accent that I didn't recognize as a New Yoowk accent at the time. I'd never been to New Yoowk.

He said he was from Lowng Island, which he also called Strowng Island to show how awesome and strowng he was.

We started talking during class and somehow over the course of the next few months, developed a casual, friendly relationship. Things took a turn for the fun when he invited me over to his apartment one early evening for dinner and to hang out.

When he told me that he had a girlfriend named Jessica before me whom things had gone horribly wrong with, I should have taken that as a clue of what to expect. But when it comes to clues and signs, I see them, acknowledge them, and then I cruise right by them, stopping only briefly to give that sign the finger.

I would go to his apartment every few days or so after school, a willing parcipitant in a game he invented which went something like this: We'd kiss for a long time. He'd tell me how beautiful I was. He'd remove articles of my clothing, one by one staying completely dressed, himself! (Clue #2 - ignored!) He'd get me completely naked and marvel at how beautiful my body was. He'd then yawn and say he had a big morning and had to get to sleep early. I'd get dressed in shame and walk myself to the train. It was always awkward and stupid, and yet, I kept going back for more.

Finally one night after this had been going on for about 4 months or so, he invited me over to his friend's house to hang out. There, his friend had many lines of "special k" laid out on the table for the two of them to enjoy. I was invited to share in the fun, but I opted out. I'd done enough acid for all of Philadelphia and was still recovering from the after-effects and experiencing random flash-backs.

But a bell rang in my head - perhaps his weiner was broken? I would think that if the stuff could tranquilize a horse, it surely could pack enough of a punch to render a fuckstick useless. Later, we went back to his apartment and went through the ritual. First, he took off all my clothes, but this time, he actually let me sleep over and tried to consumate our, um..., like. But his poor penis was out like a light. And soon after, we followed suit.

To make a long, boring story as short as possible, he set me up one night. He brought me back over to his friend's house, hung out for a bit and then left me there. I could feel where it was all leading. I'd mentioned his friend was cute (when he asked me!) and he kept insisting his friend thought I was cute, too. I hated Justin's shenanigans and his inability to be honest with me on almost any front. So, to spite him, or rather, to indulge him, when he left, I made out with his buddy. I knew he'd tell Justin and Justin would "break up" with me. And that is exactly what happened.

And that is the end of that.

Though the experience was sordid and littered with Bob Seger-like night move lust and half-hazard emotion, I rejoice in it, for it inspired the hit joke, a bastardized clipping of the above, elongated tale:

I used to date this guy in Philadelphia. He'd never have sex with me, and it hurt me so badly, because I thought he was "the one" - I thought we were going to get married and everything. So, eventually, I decided I should talk to him about this. I went to his house, knocked on the door and said, "Listen. We've been going out now for like, a week..., and I feel like this whole time, I've been washing my ass for nothing."

Friday, February 10, 2006

I don't "normally" do this, but I wanted to plug this on my website, because this was SO MUCH FUN last time I'm still sighing in delight upon contemplation of the memories it left within me...

Come to this if you can - it's mostly good for chicks, but dudes might dig it as well...especially the cool ones. Here's a tip for the guys: it will be a veritable chick feast! If you can't pick up a nice shirt, you might very well pick up a honey!

And...I'll be performing!

Rain, Snow or Alien Abduction
Swap-O-Rama-Rama is this Sunday

In keeping with the artwork on the Swap-O-Rama-Rama winter flyer the snowflakes will be joining us. Any x-raver will tell you that an event is only as good as the obstacles to get there. Luckily we're two short blocks from the L train (there are no L line closings this weekend) and the snow is expected to behind us by Sunday morning. So please know the swap is on!!! Rain, snow or alien abduction, clothing will be exchanged, modified, transformed and you might be too. Don't forget that while we swap and modify clothing we're also transforming ourselves from consumers to creators. Anyone can stroll into the gap and put on the costume of the masses. The only thing the industry forgot to put on their labels is "this is your uniform, you are now a drone." Not so for the maker! Bust out, be independent. Don't be branded and divided into socioeconomic stalls that reflect the size of your wallet rather than the expanse of your creativity. You can do better. At Swap-O-Rama-Rama you will learn all you need to know to resist the silly tactics of big biz: sew, stitch, rip, zip, puncture, staple, embroidery, glue, iron, paint, solder, design. . . do it yourself!

A quick review of what to bring...
What to bring: jackets, wallets, hats, pants, shirts, skirts, shoes, gloves, belts, accessories (wearable), jewelry, sunglasses, bags, costumes, lingere, pjs etc. Only clothes please!

What not to bring: books, bikes, vases, lamps, your hamster, furniture, statues, dolls, stuffed animals etc.
If you cant wear it, dont bring it!

* Quantity is not important. Come with a little or a lot, whatever you got.

Thanks for participating. See you all on Sunday!
Wendy Tremayne

* read on for the day's events

A reminder of the days events...

Sunday February 12, 2006 - 2pm to 7pm
$10 and a bag of your unwanted clothes
all workshop and DIY materials are provided

Galapagos Art Space
70 North 6th (btw Wythe & Kent), Brooklyn NY
L train to Bedford, two blocks

Join in the communal process of creative reuse!

It’s time to clean out your closet and get rid of those unloved items to get ready for the winter Swap-O-Rama-Rama! Dig out the clothes you bought thinking “I’ll fit into it one day,” the gifts that made you wonder how well your aunt Marilyn really knows you and the stuff your hanging on to thinking it may come back into fashion. Let it go! At Swap-O-Rama-Rama you will trade your unloved items in for over 4,000 lbs of clothing for you to dig through. And it’s all free!

Once you’ve picked your new favorite duds you are invited to take back creativity from industry... bring your new clothes over to the DIY stations where you can learn to create new from old. Here you can work with skilled designers (Wheylan Dean Ford, Rienke Redman Akkerhuis, Kpoene Kofi Bruce and Claire Shaw) and modify your finds into something special or do on-site tailoring. You can also download images off the web and iron them on at Nat’s iron station (bring your own art on DVD or search the web on site) or silk-screen your new clothes at the silk-screen station with friends Dee and Shawn from Antimart to show you how. Explore a mass of bows, buttons, decals, trim patches and other notions at the decoration stations where Lina and Blanka will show you how to embroider, knit and have an all around great time doing hand sewn mods. All of your creativity materials are provided. Dive in and have fun!

You’ll also find artist taught workshops (a new one each 1/2 hr) where you can learn a unique clothing modification or recycling skill. The winter swap features: Alison Lewis’s Fashion Hack - create your own Twinkle Tote bag which lights up when your cell phone rings, Megan Nicolay’s Tee Party with 108 ways to transform a T-shirt; Dana Moskowitz's Knitting with Recycled Ts; Mikey Sklar’s RFID tag pocket replacement; Itsi Atkins Bra to Handbag conversion; or Daniel Tainow’s how to on composting organic textiles.

Swap-O-Rama-Rama also features a DIY fashion show including Kate Goldwater’s AuH2O Designs created using recycled clothing from the autumn swap. You are also welcome to join in the “Do It At the Swap” fashion show where your invited to show off the items you modified at the swap and win prizes.

And for the grumbling bell Louisa's Lucid Food will offer vegan sandwiches and sweets!

When you need a break from the action sit back and watch two on-theme short films: artist Jess Dobkin’s michevious Restored project and Faye Lederman's A Good Uplift, a documentary about a lower east side shop where jewish grandmother Magda will size you up for the perfect bra or catch Jessica Delfino’s stand up comedy.

What to bring? Bring: Clothes in season: jackets, wallets, hats, pants,shirts, skirts, shoes, gloves, belts, accessories, jewelry, sunglasses, bags, costumes, lingere, pjs etc. Only clothes please! What not to bring: books, bikes, vases, lamps etc... If you cant wear it, dont bring it! Quantity is not important. Come with a little or a lot, whatever you got.

Swap-O-Rama-Rama is for boys, girls, men, women.

All left over clothing is donated to St. Martin DePorres Shelter in Brooklyn, NY.

More Info:

Monday, February 6, 2006

Strange Poetry going...somewhere?

Iron can't be good for you
it's metal
fear metal

When eaten a pill or two,
it's yellow
it's yellow

Hippies dig nutrious stuff
they're mellow
they're mellow

They don't shave their pubic puffs
well, hello!
well, hello!

I could do this all day long
No day job
No day job

I'm gonna do a show tonight at
The Continental

Haunted Pussy takes the stage
It's histronic
fear metal

9 PM, no admission
Tonight - we'll
See you there, all

Friday, February 3, 2006

LIVE (free) DVD TAPING or whatever SATURDAY, FEB 4 at 1 PM (Tomorrow!!!)
and free wine

For those of you who are eager to find something New York Centric and free to do at 1:30 PM on a rainy Saturday, I'm taping a live DVD tomorrow afternoon at 1:30 PM at MNN Studios. It's on the north side of 59th Street between 10th and 11th Aves.

Some things you may experience at my DVD taping:

*** love at first sight (with a stranger or perhaps someone you know)
*** free wine going into your stomach
*** diarrhea (but I really hope not, that would be so bad)
*** songs about vaginas
*** peace and tranquility as we gaze at the green screen nature scenes behind me

Some things you WILL NOT experience at my DVD taping:

*** there will be no elephants trampling your hands and feet
*** you will not experience electric shock therapy
*** i promise no shanking by a home-made tooth brush knife
*** lice (98% sure)
*** you will not be harrassed by any deaf mutes, not on my watch
*** no one will dump orange juice on your genitals

Those are the promises I can make to you as an attendee of my live DVD taping.

So come one, come all.

MNN Studios
1:15 SHARP!
FREE admission, and most of all,
FREE wine

This will not last more than one hour. You are allowed to get up and move around. You will not be forced at gun point or stabby point to stay seated or watch, or even enjoy the show.


*** My Pussy Is Magic - my dance pop hit featuring glitter
*** Sudden Change - A song which is all about bloody crotches
*** Lullabye - A ditty that will make you snivel while chortling
*** Happy Bears - All about how in Vermont bears eat hippies
*** Really Great Knobber - This one's about learning from your elders
*** and many, many more.


Be there, or be doing something else, like eating overpriced omelettes at some greasy yuppy hell hole or shopping for products made by Chinese minors.

Wednesday, February 1, 2006


Saturday night I felt a lot of thumping around in my chest. I've had a little chest gnome for years, but I've ignored it and it's ignored me. However, on Saturday, it was as if the chest gnome had a family reunion and all it's chest gnome buddies were there, drinking and causing all kinds of havoc.

I went to the emergency room around 3 AM, because I am afraid of chest gnomes.

The doctors hooked me up to a chest gnome checker, and went back to playing UNO or whatever it is the doctors do in the emergency room. I fell asleep and later woke up, so that was good, or bad, depending on your outlook.

The doctors said my EKG (chest gnome test) was abnormal, and said I might want to hang around for a few days so they can monitor me. I thought it strange that they would invite me to stay like that, so I took them up on the offer. I figured they wouldn't have asked me if they weren't at least a little concerned.

So, I said yes.

I was moved up to a bed on the 7th floor of the hospital around 1 PM.

I missed lunch, but the kindly lady snuck me an egg salad sammy.

I slept most of Sunday, waking every few hours only to get blood removed from my arm and have doctors ask me questions and hook me up to machines and have nurses drop pills down my throat. It was downright sadistic.

Monday I took some more chest gnome tests and was told that my chest gnome, though annoying, is mostly just that. I decided if that was good enough for the doctors, it was good enough for me and packed up my goodies (a free tooth brush and some baby lotion) and headed to Chinatown.

As I was walking south towards my homestead, I turned on my cellphone (which I wasn't allowed to use while in the hospital) and checked my messages. Four new messages. Around message number two, something happened - a car drove by really loudly, or perhaps someone yelled something that sounded like my name and I panicked and practically threw my cellphone down a NYC sewer grate. You should have seen it, all in slow motion, bounce out of my hand, dance across the pavement and in three tango steps, commit cellphone suicide.

I gasped as it slid so gingerly through the bars, as if it were trying on a dress that fit perfectly. It was as if it was trying to run away. It actually made a "ker-plunk!" sound as it hit its' spit, piss, shit and rain water demise. I saw it's little light flicker and then go out.

It was practically sad.

A few passers by saw the commotion and exclaimed, "Oh, shit!"

I'm celebrating the life of my loyal cellphone with a Dirty Folk Rock show in Indianapolis, IN on Wednesday, March 22nd at 8:30 PM at a little joint called Birdy's. In lieu of flowers, please buy a CD.